


What They Don't See

by ml101



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mycroft Holmes Needs a Hug, Mycroft Holmes-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ml101/pseuds/ml101
Summary: There were a lot of things that Mr. and Mrs. Holmes didn't know when they lived in Musgrave. What they do when they find out, is long overdue.(Or Mr and Mrs Holmes are forced to see the truth and apologize to Mycroft)
Relationships: Mummy & Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Holmes & Father
Comments: 13
Kudos: 50





	1. Father

**Author's Note:**

> I never liked the way the Holmes' parents treated Mycroft. [As you can probably tell he is my favorite character no matter what version of Sherlock Holmes I've read/watched.] This is my way of trying to feed my desire of more Parents & Mycroft fics.

Siger Holmes loved the lectures he was able to attend because he was a member of the RHS. Sure it meant an occasional trip to London but with two sons with spare rooms, it was a luxury to make a trip and be spoiled with meals for a day or two.

He wished that Violet would join him from time to time but he knew his wife. As remarkable as she was, Violet didn’t have a green thumb and pretty much left anything green to him. 

He had hoped that Mycroft would join him in one of these events, he did show interest back when his eldest was young but Siger did not dare raise the point given his eldest’s work schedule. Sherlock never showed any interest and so there was Siger all alone, waiting for the auditorium to fill for the lecture.

“Siger? Siger Holmes?” 

Siger turned to see another elderly gentleman making his way towards the vacant seat next to Siger. The man was average height, a bit shorter than Siger. His hair was short and lighter compared to Siger’s but it seemed that the other man was older, albeit only a year or two. His boys would probably be able to give a more detailed description but Siger preferred to just ask.

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m at a disadvantage…” began Siger as he stood and took the offered hand. 

“Ahh, of course, apologies,” began the other man. “Joseph Pearson, we were brief neighbors before my family moved away. My youngest son had a couple of play dates with your youngest.”

Pearson? Oh yes, the family of six, both parents being lecturers in the scientific field. Though if he could remember correctly, the father, Joseph, was more on Zoology rather than horticulture. They had become close acquaintances during the Pearsons’ brief stay in the area.

“Oh, yes. You were barely a year with us before you moved away.”

“Yes,” replied Joseph, sitting down by the man. “Wife was given yet another opportunity and so we moved away. Mind you, it calmed everyone down, given what Iggy did every time we walked past your house.”

“Ahhh, I wasn’t going to bring it up---” Because Siger did remember the Pearsons, particularly the youngest boy, Ignatius Pearson. The boy who screamed bloody murder anytime he saw a Holmes or even cuaght site of the Holmes estate.

He and Violet always thought that Sherlock must have shown the boy something or had dragged him along with Victor to some dead animal and it had been a traumatic experience.

“He’s actually the one giving the lecture today,” said Joseph with pride. “Him and his botanist colleagues. He’s told me before that he’s actually worked with both your boys in the past.”

“He’s gotten over his fears of Holmes' then?” asked Siger in jest, hoping to lighten the mood and not lose the one conversation partner he had.

“I’m pretty sure that was just a childish thing really,” replied Joseph with a laugh. “Iggy wasn’t really fond of playing with girls, you know. But your daughter was the only one with the same age so naturally, we thought they’d get along well.”

Siger paled as everything dawned on him. “Mind you, pretty sure Iggy made up most of the things he told us. I couldn’t really grasp my mind around a young girl threatening to set our house on fire or that she would kill us in our sleep. But I guess, boys would be boys, you know.”

Siger could only nod and be grateful as the lights deemed and the lecture began, not that he could concentrate on one single thing the lecturer, Ignatius Pearson--Eurus’ first victim, was saying.

* * *

Siger swallowed nervously as Joseph led him to the front of the auditorium. He regretted telling the other man he was by himself. The question had caught him off guard. Even after the hour long lecture, Siger was still reeling from his recent discovery about his daughter and--

“Iggy, you might not remember, but this is Siger Holmes,” introduced Joseph as the young man turned to his father and smiled sheepishly at Siger, before offering his hand.

“I do sir,” replied Iggy. “It’s my pleasure. Hoped you found the day enlightening.”

“You might be seeing more of each other in the future,” said Joseph with a smile. “Siger’s a member of the RHS.”

“I’m not always giving a lecture dad,” said Iggy with a roll of his eyes but Siger could note the sense of accomplishment there, and given his father’s pride, it was something that warmed the heart.

“It was a pleasure hearing your lecture today,” began Siger, though he practically had not heard a single word since the beginning. But Siger had manners, some of which he tried desperately to teach his youngest son.

“Thank you,” replied Iggy with another sheepish smile. “Mind you, pretty sure both your sons would have done better.”

“Joseph mentioned you’ve worked with both of them before?”

“Sherlock consulted for a case he was working on but when I introduced myself he hadn’t a clue who I was,” replied Iggy with a shrug and the overwhelming sense of guilt once again washed over Siger. “As for Mycroft, I attended a meeting with the Department of Transport regarding landscaping issues with regards to roads.”

He paused and looked nervous once more before raising his head to meet Siger’s eye. “Was too nervous to introduce myself but your eldest son really knows how to take charge of a meeting. Never seen anything done that efficiently in my life.”

_ That’s Mycroft for you _ , thought Siger with a smile. “My son has a minor position in the government.”

“Oh,” began Iggy. “I thought he was the main person in charge.” He turned his head to look around the auditorium. “You by yourself Mr. Holmes?”

“Sadly, my passion wasn’t passed down,” replied Siger.

“You can tell me about it,” grumbled Joseph. “All four of them took to science but not one had taken Zoology.”

“I think the animal bites and being chased around didn’t paint and nice picture dad,” replied Iggy as he fixed his belongings and slung his bag over his shoulder.

Siger wasn’t able to deflect the offer for lunch and soon found himself in at least a good conversation about botany with the young man as Joseph raised his points of view with regards to biodiversity.

It was a good lunch, if he could just ignore the growing shadow he was trying to take control off. But it seems as though the shadow had a different agenda whatsoever.

“I hope you appreciate my candor Mr. Holmes,” said Iggy when they were left alone as Joseph stepped out for a cigarette. “But I invited you to lunch for another reason.”

“Oh?” asked Siger, not really liking where the conversation was going.

“I guess it was my way of apologizing,” replied the younger man sheepishly. “When we heard that your house had been engulfed in flames and that…” He swallowed nervously before continuing. “And that she -- your daughter had died. I had been utterly relieved.”

Iggy raised his head and met the other man’s eye. “I know that sounds horrible of me, wishing someone’s daughter’s demise -- so I guess this is my petty way of trying to rid myself of that guilt.”

“You were but a child then, dear boy,” replied Siger with a small smile. “Though I dare say, from what your father told me, you had due cause to not like my daughter.”

“I’m sorry,” replied Iggy. “She just -- she always wanted to go and run around her brothers and I was just content with having someone my age to play with. But when I didn’t do as she said, she--” Iggy paused once more before shrugging. “I was utterly terrified of her.”

Siger patted the young man’s arm. “Eurus,” he could see the flinch the name had gotten from the boy and vowed not to repeat it. “She was a handful, if I do say so myself.”

“Maybe she would have grown out of it, eventually.” offered Iggy with a nod but seeing the look on the older man’s face he quickly apologized. “I’m really sorry for bringing it up. I just -- well I guess I also wanted to apologize for always shouting and crying whenever we walked past your house or whenever we saw any member of your family.”

“No harm done, I’m sure,” said Siger.  _ On our side especially. But on you, my boy?  _ “May I ask what exactly she did or say to you?”

“There was her creepy song,” replied Iggy, shuddering at the memory. “Then when she managed to drag me to that well, she always said she wanted to push someone in. She said she’d been thinking of doing it to me or to Sherlock’s friend -- just to see what would happen. When I told her I’d tell both our parents, she said she’d kill us all in our sleep or set the house on fire.”

Siger paled but Iggy was too focused on his hands to have noticed. “I know it was silly and she probably didn’t mean any of it. She was a Holmes and was a lot smarter for her age so, looking back on it now, it’s all quite amusing really.”

“But the experience was still quite frightening for a boy at that age,” began Siger. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I should be the one to apologize for what my daughter put you through.”

“It did make me slightly more of a cautious person,” replied Iggy with a smile. “Still, I’m sorry about your loss, Mr. Holmes.”

Siger could only nod in reply, having been saved from any more discussion as Joseph returned and the conversation shifted back to horticulture.

* * *

Siger debated with himself the entire day if he should bring it up. It’s not like they haven’t moved past it already. Sure the topic was a delicate subject matter but they have started to move forward as a family.

There was at least that small progress.

He had gone over the scenario in his head as soon as he arrived back to his temporary lodgings that afternoon. All the pros and cons of bringing up the topic and possibly ruining a night that they could have spent catching up -- but a matter like this should probably be brought to attention. 

He was finally brought out of his musings when he noticed that it was dinner time and he hadn’t had anything but his own thoughts since lunch. With a sigh, and the resolve of addressing the elephant in the room, he went to the kitchen to find something to cook dinner.

The resolve he managed to convince himself with had evaporated as soon as he entered the kitchen and saw the cook wearing a small smile of achievement.

“You’re home early?”

Mycroft turned and shrugged. “Felt like cooking seeing as you are here.”

“You shouldn’t have troubled--”

“No trouble whatsoever father, I promise,” replied Mycroft, his smile brightening. “Besides, Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to lend me her recipe because and I quote, ‘That enormous kitchen of yours deserved to be cooked in.’”

The lady does have a point as Mycroft never usually spent quite a lot of time at home and was mostly found in either his main office or the office he used at the Diogenes.

“I didn’t notice your arrival,” said Siger as he sat by the counter and watched his eldest move around the kitchen. Mycroft had been thoroughly independent since he learned how to walk. It had been no surprise how quickly his eldest got the hang of living alone when he first set out for uni.

“Just freshened up a bit and went straight to cooking,” replied Mycroft as he concentrated on the stove in front of him. “You were at the study and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Would have been welcomed son,” replied Siger with amusement. “It is your house. Rough day at the office?”

Mycroft shrugged. “It had been a slow day. I regretted not taking you up on your offer of attending the lecture. Probably had been a better use of my time.”

Siger swallowed. The different scenarios playing through his head had Mycroft did join him. Would he still have found out everything he did today? Or would he have still been none the wiser of the horror her youngest child had inflicted on someone?

“How was the lecture?” asked Mycroft as he finished cooking and started to lay out plates and glasses for them. 

“A bit too technical for me,” replied Siger with a shrug. He wasn't lying too. The topic earlier was mainly driven towards the scientific community but it was still food for thought for nature enthusiasts and many members of the RHS. “Ignatius Pearson was one of the lecturers.”

“Pearson? Oh, yes. I’ve worked with him for some landscaping project before,” replied Mycroft as he set a plate in front of his father. “Bright young man with a bit of a nervous disposition.”

_ You don’t know the half of it,  _ thought Siger but any other thought was forgotten as he tried desperately to have a good dinner with his eldest son. It had been long overdue.

* * *

“I hope I’m not intruding, but is there something wrong, Father?”

Siger smiled as he took a sip of his drink and turned to look at his eldest. “What gave me away?”

Mycroft blushed slightly. “I do apologize…”

“Never apologize for that Mycroft,” reminded Siger. “I know how hard it is to turn off. But I’m glad you at least took my advice of picking the deductions you voice out to other people, as opposed to your brother.”

“Dr. Watson is slowly driving the point home,” replied Mycroft with a smile. “Something seems to be heavily weighing on your mind since dinner.”

“Far away look in my eyes, rigid posture,” listed Siger. “What else?”

“Holmes’ instinct?” teased Mycroft with a smile. “Mainly, you’re not your usual self after attending an event with the RHS. We would be discussing what you plan to do with the garden back home by now and trying to convince me to do a bit of gardening here.”

“Ahhh,” replied Siger as he drained his glass. Now or never, he supposed, as he placed his empty glass on the nearby table.

They had taken to the den after dinner, Mycroft offering a glass of scotch to his father. They had been talking about the recent case Sherlock had gotten involved with and how young Rosie was fairing but Siger was only half listening. Of course his eldest would pick up on it -- every single member of his family would have. He was an open book after all.

“The lecturer,” began Siger. “Ignatius Pearson. You don’t remember him?”

“Besides the time we attended the same meeting, no,” replied Mycroft in confusion. “Should I have?”

“The Pearsons were our neighbors when we lived at Musgrave,” explained Siger and Mycroft’s confusion grew. “They were for less than a year actually. You remember the married scientist.”

“Oh, the Physicist and Zoologist?” asked Mycroft and Siger nodded. “The family that had that boy that would scream at us whenever he laid eyes on our house or us for that matter?”

“Ignatius right on the dot,” replied Siger. “They moved after a year because the mother received yet another opportunity.”

Mycroft studied his father and Siger knew that look. It was the look that Mycroft had when he was trying to figure out something but he didn’t have all the facts just yet. “I fail to see why this is troubling you.”

“Why would a family of six who just arrived suddenly uproot once again?” asked Siger, taking him back to those old days when his son didn’t have all the answers.

“You just said the mother received yet another opportunity,” answered Mycroft.

“Moving yet again just for that one reason?” probed Siger.

“Ignatius Pearson’s fear of us might have contributed to their relocation,” replied Mycroft in understanding. “I really don’t remember much of him. I guess Sherlock and Victor must have shown him a dead pet or--”

“Ignatius was one year younger than Sherlock,” said Siger, letting it all out and true enough, Mycroft’s eyes widened. “He and Eurus had a couple of playdates.”

“She didn’t…” began Mycroft, the worry coming off him in waves and Siger wished he hadn’t brought it up.

“Threatened to push him down the well was probably the most minor of the things she told him,” began Siger as he walked over and refilled his glass. “No wonder he screamed bloody murder anytime they walked past our house. He thought he was going to have to spend an hour or so with her once more.”

Mycroft sighed as he placed his glass down on the table and covered his face with his hands. “Damn. I should have--”

“Should have what?” asked Siger, turning to face his eldest. “Mycroft, you were just a boy yourself!”

“I was supposed to be watching them, father.”

“Not 24/7,” countered Siger. “Sherlock and Victor were already a handful, and you had your advanced academic courses. We introduced your siblings to other children their age so you could focus on school work and not be pestered by them.”

“But because of my neglect--”

“Neglect?” asked Siger incredulously as he walked over and knelt down beside Mycroft, his knee protesting the action, but Mycroft deserved this comfort. “Mycroft, you were a boy. If anything, it should have been us who should have been keeping an eye out. Don’t shoulder all the blame when there was nothing that you could have done.”

“You don’t know that,” replied Mycroft, swallowing the lump in his throat. “If I had focused on her or played her game, maybe--”

“You don’t know that, either my boy,” echoed Siger with a sad smile. “I’ve been trying to ignore what has been laid out in front of me since that day in your office Mycroft but the fact of the matter is, Eurus was -- is dangerous. Maybe things would have turned out differently, or it could have been worse.”

Siger stood and went back to his chair, sipping from his glass. “Ignatius Pearson said Eurus threatened to kill them or set their house on fire if he told anyone what she wanted to do with the well. I would have brushed that aside back then. Now? I guess, we never really know…”

Siger could feel Mycroft’s eyes on his as he once again drained his glass then met the gaze of his eldest. “What I do know is, you were placed in a very difficult position, by us, by your uncle, by your siblings.” He paused to let his words sink in. “I let myself be blinded by our perfect little family that I denied every notion that there could be something wrong until it was too late.”

“Father…”

“You told us that something wasn’t right,” continued Siger. “There was a time you told me, after one afternoon when we worked at the garden in Musgrave. You told me that something seemed wrong with Eurus and her curiosity. I should have acted then and there.”

“She was your daughter,” tried Mycroft.

“And you were my son,” countered Siger with a sigh. He turned to look out the window. “Sometimes I find myself thinking what if things had been different? And you know what, for some reason, what we have now, is, as I’ve concluded this afternoon, infinitely better than everything I could have come up with.” He paused once more as he turned to Mycroft. “If we had insisted on taking in Eurus even after the fire, she might have burned the next one. If she had escaped from that facility Rudy stuck her in, she might be the worst criminal the world has ever faced. If we had known she had still been alive, we might have done something stupid and reckless that could have cost both you and Sherlock your lives…”

“Father there’s no use in dwelling on such things,” began Mycroft as he mirrored his father’s actions earlier and stood to kneel down by his side. “Like I said back then, I tried my best and I know it was very--”

Siger snorted and Mycroft stopped short. “That was your mother, Mycroft. And if she could take back those words, I’m pretty sure she would.”

“Regardless,” began Mycroft, meeting his father’s eye. “What has happened in the past, is the past. What matters now is how we move forward. Sherlock is making progress with music. Should I have included all of you years prior, maybe but as the saying goes, better late than never.”

Siger smiled as he placed a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for the burden you had to endure all these years, my boy. But worst of all, I’m sorry you believe that you had to endure it alone.”

Mycroft’s eyes widened and before he could say anything else his father stood, dragging him along and engulfing him in a hug Mycroft had not felt since he was a boy. 

It had been long overdue.


	2. Mummy

Chapter 2

Violet was not fond of the city. After basking in the quiet life of the country side, she preferred to only venture out when absolutely necessary -- or when a disruption to the routine of daily life was needed just for sanity’s sake.

Siger ventured out frequently given his RHS membership and so whenever she had any errands needed done in London, she always asked if he could do it on her behalf.

This time was different, though. This was an old friend, and Siger might not want to be asked to visit an old fling (Not that it ever amounted to anything. They fancied one another but never acted on it until they both drifted apart, only to be reunited after both had married and had children.)

Edward MacDonald was a retired fireman who had moved shortly after they had departed Musgrave, having been promoted. His children had all grown already and his youngest daughter had invited him to live with her in Inverness. With his Scottish roots, Edward had immediately said yes and had been cleaning out the house he and his late wife had previously occupied.

He had apparently found something of interest for Violet and had contacted the Holmes matriarch. Edward meant to drop by their home but packing took up a lot more time than expected and so Violet had offered to just visit him instead.

Arrangements were made, and in the interest of trying and being better parents, Violet had accepted the suggestion of Siger to stay with their eldest for the duration of her stay in London. Not that her eldest would have the time to entertain, let alone cook, dine out or take her to a show--

“Try Violet,” said Siger as she had complained a week before.

“I am trying!”

“No, you’re being stubborn,” replied her husband with a smile. “I may not be a genius but I’m the expert of social interactions in this family.”

“Siger…”

“He’s done everything you’ve asked and more. And I’m not just talking about recent events.” said Siger. “You eventually will have to admit that you’ve been too hard on him since the day he was born.”

“Of course--”

“And he’s done nothing but show us how responsible he is,” countered Siger. “We’ve been too hard on him but lax on the other two, especially our youngest. It’s high time that changed.”

Violet did not understand why Siger had been that adamant, something in his recent trip to London must have been the cause. She doubted father and son had a heart to heart, there was no way that had fitted her eldest’s busy schedule but Siger kept a tight lip on it.

She’d eventually get her answer though -- she just had to time it properly and get this trip to London over with.

* * *

“This is a nice place you had, Edward,” said Violet as she sat in her old friend’s kitchen as the man prepared tea.

“Homey, yes,” replied the elder gentleman. “Sad to leave but it doesn’t feel like a home when you’re all alone. Sammy was kind enough to ask me to stay with her in Inverness but Maggie and I always loved the view up there.”

“Well it’s very different from the London life, I’m sure,” said Violet with her thanks as Edward offered her a cup.

“A lot quieter with regards to the political scene,” said Edward after taking a sip. “I’m sure your boy must be exhausted. Paul’s been thinking of changing paths to teaching at university with all the added stress.”

Violet only nodded, not really knowing how to discuss anything about the works of her sons, particularly her eldest. 

“I’m sure you have a busy day,” began Edward as he drained his cup. “I don’t want to delay you.” He left the room only to reappear quickly with an old box. “The department never got around contacting you after the fire. The case was handled by your brother as soon as the fire was out but we still tried to salvage some things.”

Violet’s heart sank as Edward handed over the box and true enough there were some old toys and a few framed photographs.

“Your brother took over, as you know, but never claimed these. I had offered to deliver them but it got lost with some of our boxes after our move to London so the missus and I just thought it was some old box filled with nothing of importance.

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Edward, motioning with his hand to lay out the items on the table as he prepared another pot of tea. “I managed to dust them and make them as presentable as possible.”

Violet slowly lifted out the items. There was a copy of her very first mathematical research. A few photographs of her and Siger when they were younger. A small wooden ship that Mycroft had made for Sherlock and another small wooden horse he had made for Eurus. There were other photographs, mostly of the children. Mycroft on his first riding lesson, Sherlock on his brother’s back reaching for something, Eurus looking directly at the camera with a very blank expression. 

What caught Violet’s eye was a picture of all three of her children, Mycroft on a sofa holding a baby Eurus in one arm while another was placed on the head of a very curious looking Sherlock who seemed to be asking his elder brother a question.

“Sorry I only got to giving them back now,” began Edward with an apologetic look. “I’m sure it would have helped with everything after the whole fiasco.”

Violet could only nod as the items made her travel back to simpler times, when her children were just that, children. None of the weights on their shoulders. She turned to the box when a folder caught her eye. “And this?”

“Forgot that was in there,” mumbled Edward as he made to grab it. “Initial photos and notes of the fire. You don’t--”

“May I?” asked Violet and Edward must have noticed the hesitation in her voice and shook his head.

“There’re just preliminary notes Vi,” began Edward. “Besides, I should have thrown those away after the investigation was handed over to your brother.”

“Please,” replied Violet. “I’m sure Rudy sugar coated the affair with us, I’d really want to take a look at it from a different perspective.”

“It’s been a couple of years,” tried Edward. “Even if I did read those again, not sure if I can paint a clearer picture of what happened.” He sighed and drained his cup. “Besides Vi, I think, and I’m sorry if you are offended by my candor, the fire was a saving grace.”

“Why?” asked Violet, her voice shaking.

Edward sighed and took the folder, opened and shifted through the photographs and placed two in front of her. It showed two badly burned bedrooms. “It was officially ruled as an accident, started by your youngest who was playing around with a candle and some books. But the badly burned areas, the childrens’ rooms -- there were focused on the bedrooms of both your sons.”

Violet swallowed as she eyed Sherlock’s bedroom and then Mycroft’s. “From what I gathered, it started in Sherlock’s room and then someone ignited Mycroft’s. When both fires merged, it got the entire house.”

“But the boys--”

“Mycroft said that he and Sherlock had a sort of indoor camping set-up planned in the living room so Mycroft could teach Sherlock about Astronomy.” said Edward, shifting through the notes in the folder. “Mycroft had smelled the smoke and woke the entire house.”

Violet swallowed the lump in her throat. What everyone knew was that Musgrave was engulfed in flames by accident due to Eurus and that their youngest had died in the ensuing fire. What Rudy had told them was that Eurus had set the house on fire out of curiosity and that he would take her to some facility for the protection of all concerned.

Edward shook his head. “We weren’t given much chance to investigate before your brother took over so I don’t have any evidence besides what we did manage, but I think your youngest was deliberately playing with fire by the boys’ room as some sort of experiment and died when it went out of control.”

“Experiment?” asked Violet, eyeing her old friend.

“We all know how smart your children are Vi,” said Edward with a sad smile. “Sherlock wanted to gather all the bees he could see for some project, Mycroft could speak five different languages fluently by the age of ten. Maybe Eurus was taking a leaf from your own book and was experimenting on combustion.”

Violet sighed as she eyed the photographs of their previous home. “Why do you think it was a saving grace?”

“Because I think your youngest would have done it again if the fire hadn’t engulfed the entire estate.”

“What?!”

Edward shifted through some papers and offered her one that seemed to have been torn from a notebook. It had lines about a notebook with a child’s handwriting, detailing about rate of combustion and similar topics. “The notebook mentioned there was Eurus’. Your brother confirmed it before taking possession of it for their investigation.”

Violet eyed all the photographs and notes in front of her before turning to her old friend. “You really think she would have done it again, given the circumstance.”

“I don’t really know, especially since we are talking about a child,” said Edward as he drank his tea. “But if this had been an adult, they’d definitely be monitored in case other fires occur around them. Eurus was always such a distant child.”

“Maybe because he brothers didn’t include her,” whispered Violet to herself as she turned back to the photographs.

“That’s not what I saw whenever I ran into them,” said Edward, making Violet turn her head sharply towards him. “Mycroft was always trying to talk to her--include her in whatever mischief Sherlock and Victor we’re getting into. There was a time when I saw Eurus snub him, said Mycroft was too much of a goodie-goodie and that she didn’t want to play with the responsible one.”

Edward shrugged. “That’s kids for you. Pretty sure they all would have gotten into loads more trouble hadn’t Mycroft kept a wary eye on them. You raised him well.”

Violet’s eyes landed once again on the sole photo she had of all three of her children. She picked it up once more and eyed the three young faces. She eventually zeroed in on the smiling face of her eldest. She had no idea when she last saw him that innocent and care-free, when he had a genuine smile on his face and not been dragged down by the weight of all his responsibilities…

In all honesty, she had forgotten what Mycroft looked like when he was genuinely happy.

* * *

Violet spent the remainder of the day lost in her own head. It was funny that all that memories, all that emotions, all that history -- all of which now inside her own handbag. She debated whether to head to her temporary lodges or delay, as much as she could, the inevitable discussion that one must have after the circumstances of that morning.

In the end, she ended up getting groceries. 

Whether she dined by herself tonight or not, she needed to do something. Yes, she wasn’t that masterful in the kitchen, but she could whip up something now and then -- particularly her eldest’s favorite.

It was the least she could do.

Her husband would probably have other ideas but he wasn’t here at the moment and she couldn’t really handle the ‘I told you so’ look from the one member of the family who was, arguably the only sane one.

She had decided not to inform him just yet -- better to inform her eldest first. If she were being honest, the person she really wanted to talk to first was her brother but who knows where the blasted man had gone into hiding. Shoving all his responsibilities to his nephew without a thought of how it could rob Mycroft of any semblance of a life---

She stopped herself mid-rant and tossed whatever she had in her hand to the trolley. 

She really did wish Rudy was here. Not so that she could strangle him with her bare hands but to just get some answers that were blunt and without any regard for her feelings. Rudy knew when to sugar coat and when to speak plainly. Mycroft would always try and spare her feelings -- and as much as she admires the gesture, she wished her eldest would stop acting like she was fragile and just told her everything. Damn whatever horrors they may be. 

It wasn’t like she couldn’t face them. She knew about Rudy’s work. She knew about Sherlock’s cases. She knew the weight that her eldest had on his shoulders…

“He doesn’t want to upset you, us,” said Siger one time. “Mycroft would do everything he can to spare us any disappointment so he handles everything by himself.”

And wherever did that boy get the idea that he should do such a thing?

Violet sighed as she went forward with her shopping. She had to act -- she just didn’t know how.

Arriving at her eldest’s home, she was surprised to see Anthea in the kitchen. She had surmised that Mycroft would be busy the entire day and would not be seeing him until nightfall.

“Good afternoon, my dear,” greeted Violet as she placed the bags on the kitchen counter. 

“Here I was waiting to ask if you preferred a home cooked meal or ordering in,” said Anthea with a smile as she eyed the groceries.

“You cook for my son as well?” asked Violet with a raised eyebrow.

“Only when he’s out cold on the sofa and will be for the better part of the next hour or so,” replied Anthea with a shrug and at Violet’s concerned look, hastily added. “Allergies acting up. Took some antihistamine. Advised to be woken after an hour so he could prepare dinner.”

Both women shared a look at that and smiled a second later. Yup, that was definitely not happening. Even Violet, after only seeing her son for a good minute or two that morning, knew Mycroft needed a good few hours of sleep.

“No need for that,” said Violet. “I’ll cook our dinner. You are welcome to join us, of course.”

Anthea studied the Holmes matriarch and with a soft smile shook her head. “I’m grateful for the offer, Mrs. Holmes. But I can tell you want to discuss something with my employer in private.”

Violet arched an eyebrow. “Has my eldest son imparted the ‘deduction thing’ to you as well?”

Anthea laughed. “I may not have the Holmes’ level intellect, Mrs. Holmes but Mycroft Holmes did train me to be observant and follow my gut.” She smiled at Violet. “And my instincts, especially as a woman, tells me there’s something you wish to discuss with your eldest alone.”

“Well,” began Violet with an amused smile. “Who am I to deny that.”

Anthea smiled, though it dimmed slightly as she bowed her head, seeming to debate her next words carefully. “Just--please do understand that your son only does what he believes is what’s best for everyone. He handles quite a lot of things but at the end of the day, he really always just wants to help.”

Violet sighed but smiled up at her. She was very protective of Mycroft, those who managed to befriend her eldest were all protective of him. Who wouldn’t be? When a man like Mycroft does open up, it’s like a precious item and one would always protect something precious from the harsh things of the world.

Violet could only nod her head in response as she began to sort the groceries.

“Let me do that while you freshen up,” said Anthea. “I’ll be taking my leave soon and there seems to be plenty here. You won’t have time to cook.”

“Oh Anthea I don’t--”

“The least I could do, Mrs. Holmes,” said Anthea as she started on the task at hand. 

Violet smiled and left her to it, making her way round the house. She stopped by the study door and sighed. Before second guessing herself, she quietly opened the ajar door and saw her eldest laid out on one of the settees in the room. He had at least shed his jacket and tie. His right arm was stretched out, his hand on the floor -- the file he must have dropped when he fell asleep neatly on the nearest table (bless Anthea). His feet were propped on one arm of the settee while his head pillowed on the other.

Violet shook her head. He must have really been out of it, Mycroft would never damage the upholstery with his shoes. Gently, she removed his shoes and placed by them by the floor and then sat by her eldest watching him sleep.

Mycroft looked incredibly peaceful and oh so young--she hated how Mycroft’s day to day life seemed to have sucked him dry of all that life has to offer. She softly caressed his cheek, tucking a wayward curl and gently placed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Violet couldn’t remember the last time she had done that.

* * *

Mycroft blinked back to consciousness slowly. Not his usual way of waking up, but even with the slow return to the land of the living, Mycroft’s mind was working on giving him the right information.

Allergies. Antihistamine. Anthea the traitor.

He specifically told her to wake him after an hour. But no, it had definitely been more than an hour, judging from the light outside, and he could smell whatever she deigned to cook in the kitchen. Hopefully his mother had arrived in a good mood and would not berate him for making Anthea cook.

Mycroft groaned as he sat up. Noticing that his assistant also had taken off his shoes after he carelessly forgot and must have damaged the upholstery. His mother would kill him.

Straightening up, he quickly put on his shoes and fixed his waistcoat. Foregoing the tie and jacket seeing as he was at home and no longer needing the armor, he headed for the kitchen only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw his mother.

“Sure, you and your brother will go on not eating for days and yet the only thing that could ever wake you up was the smell of your favorite dishes,” tutted Violet as she busied herself with the dinner she was preparing, before turning to look at her son. “I hope the allergies weren’t too severe.”

“No,” replied Mycroft hoarsely. He winced and Violet rolled her eyes before motioning with her hand to the pitcher of water. “Apologies.”

“Don’t apologize for that, Mikey,” replied Violet more softly. “I just wish you wouldn’t sugar coat things with us. I’m your mother, I worry.”

“No need to worry about me, Mummy. I’m--”

Violet cut him off with a raised eyebrow and Mycroft knew not to finish that particularly thought. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Just about done, actually,” replied Violet as she turned back to her cooking. “You could set the counter.”

Mycroft nodded and did just that. They worked in silence and once everything was settled, ate quietly as well. Violet resisted the urge to start the conversation, knowing all too well that she’d dive head first to the topic she wished to discuss. Besides, from Mycroft’s own demeanor, he had already deduced something was amiss.

“How was Mr. MacDonald?” asked Mycroft, finally opening the conversation after the silence had taken a step to being awkward.

“Hoping to put London behind him as soon as he can,” replied Violet. “As much as he loved his life here, he’s yearning for peace, especially from politics.” Violet winced at hearing her own words. She hadn’t wanted that to sound like a jab but to her ears, and from Mycroft’s minute gestures, to her son’s--it sounded like it.

“Yes, Paul MacDonald has mentioned before how he was thinking of going into teaching and moving as well to be by his family,” offered Mycroft, not meeting his mother’s gaze. “I’m sure it will be a welcome gesture for all of them.”

Violet sighed. Well things were definitely not going swimmingly. Not that she had a plan, but offending her eldest and making him on edge was most definitely not what she wanted. And they hadn’t even touched upon the subject that was weighing down on them.

“I’m sorry,” began Violet, making Mycroft’s head shot up to look at her incredulously. “I meant no offence, Mikey. I just--why are you staring at me like that?”

“I…” began Mycroft dumbfoundedly, blushing slightly as he bowed his head to look at his plate. “I don’t think i’ve ever heard you apologize to anyone before.”

_ Oh _ . It was Violet’s turn to bow her head and not meet her eldest’s eye. “Yes, well -- you know I hate repeating myself.”

“Yes, and apology accepted. Though,” began Mycroft as he drank from his glass. “I don’t think there was anything to apologize for.”

_ You don’t know the half of it, my dear.  _ Now or never--

“Actually,” said Violet, forcing herself to look her son in the eye. “I think I owe you quite a lot of apologies--”

“Mummy--”

“Let me speak, Mycroft,” said Violet with a tone of sharpness that Mycroft had not heard since he was a child. “As you were aware, Mr. MacDonald asked me to visit because he had found something of interest.”

“Of interest?” probed Mycroft in confusion.

Violet nodded as she stood and went to her bag which was on the corner. She got the folder and envelope with the photos and the few trinkets which she immediately placed on the counter by Mycroft.

“These are....” his voice drifted as he inspected the items one by one. He first took the small ship and then the little horse. “Items from Musgrave.”

Violet nodded as she retook her seat. “Apparently a box of personal items were not taken by Rudy’s team and Edward had opted to deliver them himself but it had gotten lost with the boxes after their move to London and only rediscovered them as he was clearing the house.”

“A box? What else were salvaged?” asked Mycroft, looking up to face his mother. She slid the envelope towards him and Mycroft slowly laid out the photos one by one. She had purposely left the picture of all three of them as last and it was there that Mycroft seemed to have frozen on the spot. 

“This…” began Mycroft, eyes glued on the photo, seemingly getting lost in old memories. “Eurus was only a couple of months old.”

“And you were very hesitant in carrying her,” remembered Violet, with a smile.

“Sherlock was just a year old then but he always had that curious look on his face,” remembered Mycroft fondly. “And even though I wasn’t sure he could understand everything I was telling him, I was telling him how I was going to need his help in taking care of Eurus.”

She heard the regret lining his voice and immediately slid the folder across the table. 

“What--”

“Open it.”

Mycroft placed the picture on the counter and opened the folder. He studied its contents for a moment, shifting through the files and notes and then finally raised his head to meet his mother’s gaze. 

“I’m at a lost as to--”

“You knew,” said Violet as she eyed her son, watching for any sign. “You told us that something seemed off about Eurus but we never listened to you.”

“She was your daughter.” replied Mycroft softly as he closed the folder.

“But we had two other children,” replied Violet strongly. “Two sons who almost died had my eldest son not planned--” She cut herself short when she saw the slight change of Mycroft’s expression. It was so small that anyone else, even Anthea or Sherlock would have missed it but she was Mycroft’s mother. 

“You knew she was planning something,” whispered Violet as she studied her son who squirmed in his seat. 

Mycroft swallowed and forced himself to face his mother. “I suspected something.” He sighed when his mother’s stare rooted him on the spot. “Sherlock had been distraught about Victor. I had tried everything to get through to him. When I offered to teach him about Astronomy, he finally responded.”

Violet watched her son as Mycroft grabbed his glass to take another drink of water, his grip too tight that Violet feared he would break the glass. “Eurus seemed too eager to go to bed that night and when I had arrived in Sherlock’s room--there was just something off. So I asked Sherlock if it would be alright with him if we staged a sort of camping trip in the living room.”

Mycroft sighed as he drained his glass, wanting to do anything else besides retelling one of the most horrid nights of his life. 

“We should have listened to you.”

Mycroft’s head shot up once more, eyeing his mother in surprise. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

“I had thought,” began Violet, moving to stand by her son on the other side of the counter. “That you and Sherlock contributed to how Eurus is today--that you ignored her. Pushed her to become what she is now--”

“But I did. I left her alone and--”

“You tried to include her when you were children,” countered Violet, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You tried to look out for her just as you did Sherlock. But unlike Sherlock, she pushed you away. Even when you suspected something was wrong, you still tried to be there for her. To be her big brother.” She paused as she eyed her eldest. “Even when she had already committed all those horrors, you still made sure that she wouldn’t be a danger to herself just as much as you made sure she wasn’t a danger to others.”

“I still failed.” replied Mycroft, bowing his head. “I tried so hard. Please believe me. I tried--”

“Shhh.” Violet wrapped her arms around him as Mycroft let himself be swallowed into a hug. He had not been a recipient of such an act for the past 3 decades--no that was a lie. He had been hugged like this recently. By his father.

* * *

They had resumed their diner but vowed to continue the conversation later that evening. Nothing more was said as they cleared their plates and cleaned up. They opted for a drink in the sitting room. Mycroft had brought all the items that were salvaged from Musgrave and laid them out on the nearest table.

“I need to know,” began Violet as Mycroft sat down beside her when he handed her a glass. “I know it will be painful. I know you want to spare us that pain.” She paused and eyed her eldest. “But I have the right to know what she’s done. I brought her into this world--”

“That no way makes her actions your fault, mother,” said Mycroft sharply. He made to say more but Violet cut her off.

“Then within the same reason, her actions are not your fault as well, Mycroft.” said Violet with a look that marked the end of that particular discussion. “Yes, it is not my fault but I am her mother. I want to know what she has done -- what they both have done.”

Mycroft winced as he took a sip from his glass. “You know some of it already.”

“But not everything,” pointed out Violet. “How many times did he almost die? How many times did you sit by him and thought you were going to lose him?”

“Mummy it’s--”

“You shouldn’t have bore that by yourself, Mycroft,” whispered Violet. “Had I known--”

“It would have broken your heart,” said Mycroft. “It would have destroyed you and father and I wasn’t--”

“You don’t have to protect us from the harshest points of life, Mycroft,” countered Violet. “Just as much as you don’t have to protect your siblings every single time they make a mistake.”

“I’m their brother.”

“You’re also a human being who is supposed to have his own life.” said Violet pointedly. “You can’t keep orbiting around your family and forget to live your own life.”

“I tried,” came the soft reply and had the room not been quiet, Violet would have missed it. She looked at her son who seemed once again lost in his own head, particularly lost in the throngs of memories.

“Mikey,” began Violet but Mycroft shook his head, willing himself to continue.

“When I went to university,” began Mycroft. “And subsequently started working for the service. I lived my own life then -- not really thinking about Sherlock or you or father. But then it all came crashing down one night when you told me Sherlock was missing and I found him--”

Mycroft suppressed a sob and Violet moved closer to run a comforting hand on his back. “It was his first OD. When I got him to the hospital and you both arrived in such relief, I just couldn’t bear to tell you what had happened. How close you had been in losing another child.”

“I promised then that I wouldn’t let him out of my sight,” finished Mycroft and drained his glass.

Violet sighed as she put down her glass on the table. “Mycroft, the world will not end just because you are not constantly watching your siblings.”

The way Mycroft tensed up was a whole different story. “Mycroft--”

“It’s nothing. You’re right.”

“You are speaking way too fast for it to be nothing.”

Mycroft sighed as he ran a tired hand over his face. “It’s nothing, truly Mummy. I’ll have Anthea gather everything that--”

“Mycroft.” said Violet in the best mother voice she could muster. It worked tremendously on her eldest, no matter what age he was.

“You probably don’t remember…”

“Then enlighten me.”

Mycroft seemed to be hesitant but the look his mother was aiming his way gave no alternatives. “After Victor…”

Violet nodded for him to continue. There was no need to finish that sentence.

“You gave me the dressing down of a lifetime.”

Violet’s eyes widened, suddenly remembering what she had said that night.

_ You should have been watching them constantly you stupid boy! _

She had not raised her hand but it felt like it remembering the face her eldest wore that night. “Oh Mycroft…”

“I shouldn’t have--”

“Yes, you most certainly should have,” said Violet, continuing to stroke his back in comfort. “I have no excuse for that behaviour.”

“Someone’s son had been lost and your own suffered quite immensely. It was understandable--”

“No it wasn’t understandable,” corrected Violet. “You were only a child yourself, Mycroft. Besides your siblings, you also had your studies to focus on. We shouldn’t have made you think that your life was solely on watching over them.”

“But because I didn’t do such a thing, we found ourselves in a predicament that changed most of our lives.”

“That was -- is, not on you,” said Violet, emphasizing her words. “What happened in Musgrave is not your fault.”

“No, it was my neglect that pushed forward events.” replied Mycroft, looking at her with such pained eyes that Violet froze on the spot. “I should have done better. This could have all been avoided if I had been a better son.”

“Mikey,” said Violet, tipping Mycroft’s chin so they could meet each other’s gaze. “You are the best eldest son anyone could have asked for.”

Mycroft’s expression would forever be engraved in her mind. That confused, surprised and hopeful look will forever remind Violet of the pains she had caused her eldest and how she wished to never see him look so utterly lost.

“Things were said in the heat of the moment and when blinded by strong emotions,” began Violet. “That should not be an excuse and I wouldn’t dare give an explanation at how bad I handled things back in Musgrave and back in your office when you told us about Eurus.” She paused and took his hands into her own.

“I told you earlier I owe you quite a lot of apologies,” continued Violet. “I am sorry for holding you back, Myroft. I am sorry that you felt you needed to shoulder the burden of your siblings by yourself. I am sorry that you felt you let us down.”

Violet sighed as she gripped Mycroft’s hands tighter, hoping to show support but in all honesty it was her that needed it, it was grounding to feel his strong grip on her hand as well. “But most of all, I am so sorry I failed you as a mother.”

“Mummy, no --”

“I did Mycroft,” said Violet as she could no longer hold back her tears. “I failed you. Out of all my children, I failed you the most.” She let the tears fall as she looked at her eldest, deep blue eyes staring back at her. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, Mummy,” began Mycroft as for once in his life he initiated a hug, wrapping his arms around his mother as she let the last bit of her composure fall. Violet clung to her eldest as they both let their feelings reign their being for a moment. Taking comfort in each other’s presence.

It had been long overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've done what I initially planned for this fic. I was thinking if I should continue and add other people like Mrs. Hudson, Molly and John. But that will happen when inspiration strikes, I guess. Thanks for reading and hoped you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: weirdogal  
> twitter: MGLojo


End file.
